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Jane III posted at 8:30 PM For the past week, I had been receiving gifts. From an anonymous.
Every single day. Each time I came home from work, I would find something waiting for me on the kitchen table. It was creepy but flattering all the same. The anonymous even bought me a vinyl copy of Abbey Road.
I know I was supposed to be more creeped out than flattered but the gifts kept me hopeful. For once I was excited to get home - just to see what I had gotten that day.
On Monday, I received a simple card. It simply had the word "Shine" on it. I was freaked out initially, but the card was pretty.
On Tuesday, it was a bottle of apple juice. With a tinge of burnt.
I was sure as hell that it was Chuck and that it was his way of getting back with me. I was sure until of course I saw pictures of him and his bitch on his Facebook page. Not to mention the Instagram spam of his new girlfriend in black and white. I was not even sure why I still bothered following him on these social sites.
On Wednesday, I got a bookmark with a fox on it. A red fox - my favorite animal. Whoever it was, the anonymous drew it himself. The water colour had seeped out a little. I prayed to God please let the anonymous be somebody normal.
And please let the anonymous be a boy.
I hated to admit it but the gifts were making me…a little moist. The anonymous seemed to understand me on a level no one did and I thought that it was simply romantic.
On Thursday I received THE Vinyl.
On Friday, I received a hand drawn map. It took me a while to understand the symbolism behind the drawings. It turned out to be a map of the town's mall. The mall's fountain more accurately. The map had cute little illustrations of a mermaid(Starbucks), a fox (FOX) and also a fountain in a triangle formation.
I knew the mall too well.
Behind the map, it had '8.30pm' written on it.
Was I going to be a crazy bitch and meet up this anonymous lover?
Yes.
Not without a Bible with me, of course.
Catharsis posted at 8:30 PM
Kyle and Ridley
Friends forever
None of them knew
What would happen to each other
A turn of events
A plot twist
The touching of hands
A subconscious kiss
"I'm not Jane", Kyle insisted
"You're Kyle I know"
Ridley whispered, intoxicated
Kyle had brought
Some laughing gas
Cigarettes & alcohol
Became a real fucking mess
Before they knew
They both blacked out
To the sound of crashing waves
That were not loud
Enough
Kyle III posted at 8:30 PM
I was going to meet Ridley and it only made sense that I shaved. Well too bad I did not have smooth flawless skin like Jane.
Ridley and I, we don't even have to like be together you know. We could just be best friends and like, stay together. I mean, we both like cats, so why not? I had never seen him react to a cat in real life though. A cat had never crossed our path when we hung out.
Well, best friends could share a bed too right? Sex is definitely out of the question - anal sex hurts. We could just cuddle as friends. Our home could be by the beach, or by the lake. That'll allow me to be amazed by the reflection of water on the ceiling. Then to be amazed by the sight of Ridley sleeping.
Every mole, every crater. The shape of his thick eyebrows. His upper lip line. I did not mind if I just looked at his face for the rest of my life.
Silly me. None of these would happen. Quit being delusional, Kyle.
My face was bleeding.
Ridley II posted at 8:30 PM
Once again it was a weekend at my Dad's. Once every month, I would travel all the way to the other end of town to stay with my Dad, along with my stepmother and my half brother.
Funny how life turned out for my parents. They were sure as hell that they were going to be together forever - they met in high school. It all started with my mum. She had a crush on my Dad, a senior. They had their first proper conversation after my Dad bumped into my Mum at the library. Study sessions became study dates. That progressed to dates, they got even more intimate and boom my Mum got pregnant with me.
They seemed perfect to me while I was growing up. The keyword was seemed. My Dad cheated on my Mum. My suicide attempt back when I was 15 did bring them close together, only for a short while. Forever does not exist.
That weekend I was spending at my Dad's was also their anniversary (my stepmother and my dad). My mum wanted to spend time over at my grandmother's that same weekend. I had no other option but to go to my Dad's anyway.
My stepmother was a pretty spontaneous lady, quite the opposite from my mother. She was outspoken. My mother liked to keep thoughts to herself. They were going to party it up at the pier with their friends.
My stepbrother and I were left with a sum of money and the house. My Dad had given me the keys to his pick up, he felt bad. My dad's a pretty cool person I guess. As much as I wanted to, I could not find a reason to hate him.
Thank God (or whatever that empty cosmic space is) for the pickup truck. There was no way in hell I was going to sit in the house and hear my stepbrother have hot sex with yet another chick.
Kyle texted.
"Wanna hang?"
Fucking Kyle. Why was he not born a Kylie instead? Why can't it be Jane texting me on a regular basis instead?
Oh boy, I would "hang" with her alright.
Jane II posted at 8:30 PM
The sound of metal cutlery cutting across meatballs and pizza was veiled by the laughters of my best girlfriends. Well, my best girlfriends and a gay boy.
It was one of our once quarterly meet ups and what better way to catch up with each other than eating meat. Well, meat was also our main conversational topic. Man meat. Cock.
We were all once from the town's contemporary dance company. The company had shut down due to the fact that it could no longer make money like it used to. Someone had also burnt down the studio after not being accepted into it and the rest of us, we gave up on ingenue dreams.
We did not end up as losers though. Most of us got into college. Seated at my table we had a plethora of amusing individuals. Miranda, for example, had turned out to be a celebrity blogger. She was celebrated for her sight on upcoming fashion trends and also her delicate day to day journals. For the rest of us small town girls, she was like a ray of light in a black abyss.
"Jane, I hope you don't mind me asking this but how did you guys break up?"
God bless the homosexual for always speaking on everyone's behalf.
"Well, he cheated on me."
I could hear gasps being released dramatically from everyone on the table.
"That's crazy," said Ashley.
"Girl, he is crazy," Kyle added.
"You could do better anyway," Miranda concluded.
"Are you sad?" Stephanie questioned.
I sipped on my apple juice. For me, I measured the quality of my apple juice from its taste. I always preferred my apple juice with a tinge of burnt. I did not know why, I just liked it better like that.
"Miranda's right. I could do better."
"So much better," Kyle enthused.
We all looked at Kyle. He was literally chugging his martini as he made that statement.
"You okay Kyle?"
"You don't look so good."
Kyle's eyes turned red and watery.
"Anal sex hurts."
Kyle. That was supposed to be my moment. You attention whore. Well, now that he had lost his virginity to a complete stranger, he was a complete whore.
"Oh dear."
"You know what you need honey?"
"You need this."
Stephanie took out a bottle of spray from her bag. What the hell was she up to?
"What's this?"
"Heaven in a bottle." Miranda laughed.
"It's laughing gas, it'll do you some good."
Stephanie and Miranda took Kyle outside with her. I was left with Ashley at the table.
"Was the sex with Chuck any good?"
My best girlfriends. These motherfuckers need Jesus.
Kyle II posted at 1:47 AM
Everyone went through an emo-hardcore playlist phase, some longer than others. Mine was pretty short lived.
I was influenced to listen to such music when I was 14 thanks to one of the first few friends I made in high school. Her name was Sheila. She accepted me when everyone else thought I was an oddball. The first song she shared with me that I truly enjoyed was The Used's 'I'm A Fake'. I never really understood the lyrics, though. Someone told me that Bert was singing about his penis. I just felt that the singer sounded like he was in pain and it was relatable, somehow.
Once I started to get the hang of such music, I listened to more similar sounding bands and it progressed to heavier genres. After a while I got desensitized. I was wondering why none of these bands had committed suicide when they were advocating bleak values about life onto their fans. Hypocrites to be honest. They were just like popstars - out to get our money and support doing what they enjoyed most. The fans, we would eat it all up.
I got closer to Ridley because I did what Sheila did to me, to him. I shared with him depressive music because I thought he was depressed as well. He obviously enjoyed it because till this very day he still indulges in such music.
Where should I begin with Ridley? He was different. Special. He did not talk much to begin with. Each time we had a conversation I had to be the one driving it. He was not exactly the kind of guy I would want to be with - he could not make decisions. He was passive, for the lack of a better word.
He was very intelligent though. He was a "genius with a headache".
I only got closer to him in the last year of high school because he was one of the few friends I wanted to still be in touch with. It turned out that I started relying on his very existence to make me happy.
Recently he had been on my mind a lot more than usual. From the very moments of my waking till the last thing I see before slumber. It was not normal, was it? I could not really help it.
He was my best friend after all. He would be mad pissed if he knew. Ridley had icy cold hands sometimes and he had this endearing smell about him. It was not his cologne (not synonymous with him AT ALL), it was just his own odor. He had veins subtly showing on his hands and I really liked that.
Was I infatuated?
Ridley was going to take me out the next week. Obviously I would be the one coming out with a plan.
Kyle posted at 9:52 PM
There was this saying that went "you are what you attracted to". Here is a list of the things I had been attracted to in my short life:
1. Mythology
2. Strong independent women
3. Paganism & witchcraft
4. Nose bleeds
5. Depressed people
6. Schizophrenia
7. Edgar Allan Poe
8. Alternative Lifestyles
9. The Afterlife
10. Satan worship
I guess I was attracted to things that were "special", or different. I was raised up thinking that I was special, that God(we'll talk more about this later on) made me different from everyone else. Too bad for me, this was not really the case. I thought my characteristics and my attributes were unique to me, but it turned out there were more like me.
My first boy crush dated all the way back in Kindergarten. I could not remember his name but I had given him a sleek black and empty journal I found in my father's room. It had "1999" in gold on the cover and I presumed my dad did not need it anymore. I gave it to my crush, only to have it returned back the next day.
I was looking at a couple seated at a table. I was not one to judge but I was definitely one to come out with stories in my head. It came naturally. The girl, she was timid. She had the girl-next-door look, very clean, very preppy. The guy, was sort of timid too, he did not talk much, except when he needed to.
I wanted to make a guess on how their relationship would end. Bad sex? The guy underestimating her dreams? A change in address?
I decided to go along with the guy underestimating her dreams. Simple. The girl would have wanted to embark on some journey that aimed to revolutionize her life. The guy would just tell her his truth - it was a waste of time. That it would never materialize. The guy would then tell the girl to stay - he could give her anything that she wanted.
The girl would find this sweet at first only to later on realize that she was unsure if she wanted to be with a guy like that. She breaks up with him.
The girl would become a strong girl, less timid in time and she would settle down with somebody who helped her on her journey.
The guy, he would probably realized that it was a huge mistake on his part. However due to his ego, he would just blame it on the girl being selfish. He would get drunk and tell his friends how she did not care enough for him or that she never once mentioned about him to his friends and family.
The miserable ending was on the guy's part. I wanted the girl to be happy throughout the rest of her life.
Sounds familiar? It was the chick flicks I grew up with. I did not like gore or action very much while growing up. I preferred stories of girls who ended up stronger and ending up with someone that deserved them better.
Madonna, had said it once and it was a motto I tried to live day by day - "Don't go for second best baby".
I am such a faggot.
Jane posted at 9:00 PM
It was Wednesday. All I intended to do was to run an hour or two on the treadmill. Chuck, now my ex-boyfriend, had to call me from Hawaii, asking for a break up.
Fuck men. Well, no fuck the man who was together with me for four years only to cheat on me later on. I could not understand why Chuck had to do that to me. I gave him everything, especially my virginity. Wasn't my vagina good enough for him?
I never once achieved an orgasm when I was with him.
I did not enjoy having his penis in my throat and I absolutely did not enjoy having his tummy rubbed against mine every time we were doing it. Who needed Calvin anyway?
Except I used to need Chuck - I would tell him everything. My best girlfriends would even tease that we would end up getting married, in a glorious chapel with intricate tinted glass artwork. I even planned the colour of our bridesmaids' outfits - lilac, mint and aqua.
I only gave up my virginity as I was sure that he was the man I would be with for the rest of my entire life. That he would be the daddy who teaches the kids their first bicycle lesson and the same one who would drive us to church every Sunday.
Forgive me, Heavenly Father.
The television was showing some show with women protesting for their abortion rights. It made me sick. Thank god Calvin never came inside me. I would never go through an abortion - it's murder. Feminism is seriously, overrated.
I turned off the television. The only thing that would make me feel better was a raspberry-avocado shake. Also, The Beatles.
Man, I wished I was born in another era.
Ridley posted at 10:15 AM
"I mean he looks good in blonde, but even better in me". I could swear that Kyle had said some of the most darned statements the rest of humanity has never thought of. We were on a man date, by the seaside- Kyle's idea. It was always Kyle's idea each time we met. Kyle always liked being in control. He had called himself a "power bottom" and had tried to explain what it meant to me. It was a concept I found hard to grasp but it did not matter much to me. Never once has it mattered to whether Kyle was gay, straight, or bi. Kyle was the only person who enjoyed giving attention to me, and I wasn't exactly getting much attention.
The waves. I watched as the waves crashed on the man-made shorebanks. It was beautiful yet tragic all the same. The waves had travelled so far, only to end up crashing in the end.
"So I recently met up with Jane. It's true, they broke up." Kyle was amusing sometimes. He liked the attention from me so much that he'd change topics just so I'd still pay attention to him.
Jane. Jane was definitely my dream girl. She was sweet-natured, never seen without a smile but always opinionated. I met the lady during a summer job at the town's mall. She looked bitchin' good even in a plain black polo and a brown apron working at the organic facial wash store. Her skin was near to flawless, white like ivory. Her hair was light brown and her eyes wide like a doe's.
I had the opportunity of exchanging conversations with Jane during my smoke breaks. Despite of all the brilliance beaming from Jane, she enjoyed solitude most. She would eat her apples dipped in peanut butter in the open, where everyone else smoked. Her excuse was that no one else from her store could disturb her in her hour of withdrawal.
We never really talked much though. It was always his and byes and obligatory sentences about our day. It was unfortunate I never asked her out. Not when she blogged about her boyfriend every fortnightly.
"Do you think drowning's painful?"
I answered "nah."
Kyle was bewildered.
"Maybe. Maybe it's not as painful as living."
That was Kyle, trying to connect with me. He might have embraced being campy, but deep down Kyle was as demented as I am, one way or another.
I loved him for that.
Epilogue posted at 1:46 AM
It had come to a point when Jane was the only thing Ridley could think about. Every waking moment, Ridley thought about her. Ridley was not quite sure what it was specifically that he liked about her - he "loved" everything about her. In his eyes, Jane was a very special girl, different from the rest of the world.
Ridley had a gay best friend who went to the same high school as him. Both of them were very different, but similar in ways they could relate to. Ridley's like Yang and his gay best friend, Kyle, Yin. Unlike Kyle, Ridley never really got through his depression phase. He was still stuck listening to sad alternative music when Kyle had moved on to embrace his inner pop queen diva.
There were a few things about Ridley you ought to take note of. He was an introvert. One of the best introverts around. Worry not, he was not one of those hipsters who took pride in being an introvert and declaring how introverts were better than everyone else.
Kyle personally hated it when introverts are like that.
For a 19 year old, Ridley had a beautiful mind. One that was full of careless thoughts and deathly desires. Kyle loved him for that. It was the very reason why Kyle even became friends with him.
You see, Kyle started becoming friends with Ridley at a point in his life when he was very confused. He is still quite confused, just not very. Kyle was looking for the meaning of life when he was 15. He wanted to try every religion around and he wanted to be friends with every non-believer all the same.
Kyle used to cut himself as he felt that no one loved him. He never really wanted to die, unlike Ridley. He just wanted to know the difference between physical and emotional turmoil.
Kyle knew since he was in Kindergarten that he liked boys. He went to a religious school for his Kindergarten, he was one of the best students around. He was even picked to sing a solo hymn for his graduation day, but only to find himself embarrassed and mute when his uncles came down to watch him.
The boys back in high school were not that friendly towards Kyle. Neither was his dad.
No one really knew what made Ridley depressed and suicidal, not even Kyle. Kyle's mildly depressed at times and the only reason he could ever think of to explain Ridley's depression was that Ridley found life meaningless.
Kyle thought the same, except that most of the time Kyle dreamt about having a husband of his own. He also wanted two kids and a fat grey cat, with eyes bluer than the seas. Kyle was living day to day in hopes that one day, a man finds him beautiful.
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A B O U T
 My name is Dyan. I'm currently 19 years old. Delusional story teller + pop culture enthusiast at heart.   I N S T A G R A M
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